by Kieran Scott
I glanced around for spies and waved her closer. Stephanie stepped in, clearly intrigued. “Because I really think he might like me,” I whispered.
“Really?” she gasped.
“Yes! Really. He talked to me so many times in the hall today, and you should have seen him yesterday, Steph. He was dropping all these signals . . . Well, at least Tama thinks they were signals.”
“Yeah, I heard about the footsie,” she said pointedly.
“There were other things, too.”
Her eyes were wide. “Like what?”
“Well—”
“Hey, KJ,” Andy popped in out of nowhere, his notebook out and a pen at the ready. “I have some more questions for you.”
Stephanie stood up straight and cleared her throat.
“Maybe we can do this later?” she said. “Wanna come over tonight?”
“Oh, I can’t. I have plans with Robbie,” I said, biting my lip.
“You have plans with Robbie?” Andy blurted. I could tell he totally had the wrong idea, but I wasn’t about to correct him. Let him think I had something going on with Robbie. Wasn’t exactly a Mean KJ diss, but it couldn’t hurt my cause.
“Yeah, we’re going shopping,” I told them.
Stephanie stared at me as if I’d just told the whole school about her secret unicorn obsession. “Okay. Do you think maybe you’ll have time this weekend?” she asked, her voice tight.
“Yeah. Definitely,” I replied, wondering what was wrong. “Everything okay?”
Mr. Katz chose that moment to walk in and smack his hands together. “Magic time, people!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. “I want all my actors backstage! Now, now, now!”
Wow. He was in rare form today. Must have had an extra Red Bull at lunch.
“Guess you’d better get back there,” I told Stephanie.
Her face was sour. “Yeah. Guess I’d better.”
She turned to go, and I was about to follow her and ask what was wrong when Fred tried to slip past me, bumped into the arm of one of the seats, tripped and sprawled facedown in the aisle.
“Oh my God! Fred! Are you okay?” I asked automatically.
He jumped up, the change in his pockets jangling, and straightened his Spider-man T-shirt. His face was even redder than usual.
“I’m okay. I’m okay,” he said, trying to make a quick getaway.
Acidic guilt surrounded my heart. I knew what Tama would tell me to do. To let him go. Or finish him off with some scathing remark about how his plumber’s crack was not for public viewing. But did I really have to be mean to all of them all at once? I mean, poor Fred. Clearly he was really upset about yesterday, however much I thought he was overreacting. Besides, I wasn’t feeling quite so belligerent today, thanks to Cameron. I didn’t feel caged or trapped or angry, which made it a lot harder to be mean. I glanced around quickly, making sure Tama was nowhere in sight. The coast was clear.
“Fred, I’m really sorry about yesterday,” I blurted.
He looked at me hopefully. “That’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I promised I’d call you and I didn’t,” I told him. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Thanks, KJ. It really means a lot to me that you said that,” Fred said, tilting his head to the side. “Really a lot.”
“No problem,” I told him. “You’d better get backstage. Katz means business today.”
“You got it!” Fred said loudly. He practically skipped backstage. I shook my head, laughing as he went, then turned around and walked right into Andy. I had totally forgotten he was there.
“So, top three dream vacation destinations?” he asked me, his pen hovering.
I sighed, my shoulders slumping. So much for my geek-free day.
ACT TWO, SCENE TEN
In which:
COMPROMISES ARE MADE
SOMEWHERE BETWEEN MAKING PLANS WITH ME AND APPEARING on stage, Robbie changed into a black turtleneck and lost the skullcap. He looked like a soulful poet dude straight out of some 1960s movie. Tama couldn’t take her eyes off of him as they rehearsed the drive-in scene. The seeds were being sown.
“All right! Let’s take five!” Mr. Katz shouted.
Everyone scrambled for the bathrooms and the vending machines. Robbie walked over to his backpack, pulled out a jumbo-sized bag of Chex Mix and tore it open.
“A little salty goodness?” he asked, holding it out to Tama with one eyebrow raised.
“Thanks,” Tama said. She reached into the bag for a handful.
“I’ll go get us some drinks,” Robbie said. He jumped down off the stage and winked at me as he passed me by. Then grimaced and pulled at the turtleneck. I had to stare straight into my lap to keep from laughing out loud.
The boy was good. I’d give him that. Give him some seeds and he got right to planting them.
“KJ! I need to talk to you!” Ashley shouted from across the room.
“We need to talk to you,” Cory corrected.
“All of us!” Carrie added.
I stood up as the three of them stormed over. All three were red in the face. Ashley towered over the Drama Twins and her blond hair was up in two buns, which, with her roundish face, gave her a serious giant Mickey Mouse look. The Drama Twins flanked her on either side, their dark hair worked into identical braids down their backs.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Tama took over the big dressing room,” Cory and Carrie said as one.
“She just took everyone else’s stuff out of there and shoved it all in the small dressing room,” Ashley added. “She didn’t even bother to hang it up.”
They all glared over at Tama, who was obviously pretending she couldn’t hear anything over the crunching of her Chex Mix.
“This would never happen in summer stock,” Ashley said, rubbing her temples. “I am just not used to working with this lack of professionalism. You know, if we were in Actors Equity, this could not go on.”
“We know, Ashley,” Carrie said, laying a comforting hand on Ashley’s shoulder.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure KJ will work it out,” Cory added, taking the opposite shoulder.
“Well?” they all said in unison, looking at me.
“Well, what?” I stalled.
“Well, what are you going to do about this?” Ashley demanded.
I took a deep breath and looked at Tama. This was not going to be fun.
“Tama? Could you come here for a second?” I called. My gut was all twisted into knots as she jumped down and made her way over. I hated confrontation. What was I thinking, taking this job when I hated confrontation?
“What’s up, Ms. Stage Manager?” she asked.
“Did you move everyone else’s stuff out of the big dressing room?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “It was in my way.”
“In your way?” Ashley blurted.
“Ashley, calm down,” I said. “Tama, you can’t just claim the big dressing room for yourself. There are a dozen other girls in this production, and they can’t all fit in the small room.”
“I have, like, a million more costume changes than anyone. My stuff has to be organized if I’m going to get back on stage in time.”
“Oh, and ours doesn’t?” Cory and Carrie asked.
“You have fewer costumes,” Tama snapped. “Ergo, you need less space. Freaks,” she added under her breath.
“Ugh! How dare you talk to us that way?” Carrie and Cory blurted.
“Why doesn’t one of you try having an original thought and then you can get back to me?” Tama shot back.
“Ugh!” they cried, offended.
“Everyone just chill for a sec!” I said. I grabbed my costume-change flowchart and flipped through it. Tama’s name was all over it, and she did have a lot more quick changes than everyone else.
“See?” Tama said, coming around to look over my shoulder. “It totally makes sense for me to have my own dressing room. I’m never going to be able to do any o
f this if I have all these people up in my face the whole time.”
“She does have a point,” I said.
“Oh no,” Ashley protested. “No way. I have just as big a part as she does! I am so sick of everyone acting like Grease is Sandy’s show. Rizzo is just as big a lead! There would be no conflict without Rizzo! No drama! No—”
“God, Ashley, maybe you should just change backstage. I don’t think your ego’s gonna fit in either one of the dressing rooms,” Tama said with a laugh.
Ashley turned red and she emitted a high squeal. I had to stop this before it got out of hand.
“All right, all right. Here’s a compromise,” I said. “Tama can have the small dressing room. The rest of you will have the large dressing room to share. How’s that?”
Tama sighed hugely, clearly put out.
“What?” I said. “I think that’s fair.”
“Well, I already moved all that stuff, but whatever,” Tama said, making a face.
My skin heated up. “So I’ll help you guys move it back.”
“Oh, would you? Would you please, please, please help us clean out Diva Gold’s dressing room for her?” Cory said.
“You really suck at this, KJ,” Carrie added before she and her sister linked arms and walked away.
Ashley took a deep breath and looked at me. “I’ll respect your decision, KJ.” Then she slid a scathing look at Tama. “That’s what professionals do. Even if they don’t agree.”
Then she followed after the Drama Twins. I glanced at Tama. She had to say something. I mean, she had to agree that I’d been fair. There was no way the rest of the Pink Ladies plus Stephanie plus every other girl in the cast could get changed in the small room. No one would be on time for their curtains.
“I’m gonna go do some scales,” she said grumpily.
And that was it. No sorry. No thanks. No nothing. She just moved over to the piano and started singing. What, exactly, had I done wrong?
“A good stage manager’s work is never appreciated,” Andy said, appearing at my elbow out of nowhere.
I blew out a sigh. “Tell me about it.”
He held out a bag of squishy-looking black stuff. “Prune?”
I wrinkled my nose and walked away.
“Don’t like prunes! Got it! I’ll make a note!” he called after me.
I shook my head, walking right past Glenn, who glared me down as I headed backstage to the dressing rooms. My fingers curled into fists as I went and I took a deep breath, resolving not to let the geeks get to me. Not today. Today I was going to focus on the good if it killed me.
ACT TWO, SCENE ELEVEN
In which:
I’M A ONE-GIRL SHOW
“WELL. THAT TOOK FIVE SECONDS,” I SAID, HOLDING THE FOUR CDs I was told I must purchase. Oasis. Run-DMC. The Beloved. R.E.M. I’d never heard one song by any of these bands. At least, I didn’t think I had. Of course, I hadn’t told Robbie that.
“I told you. I haven’t stopped thinking about it for the last forty-eight hours. There was a whole elimination process, but if I let you in on how that worked, you might have me committed.”
“I’d never do that,” I said.
“Why? ’Cause you’d miss me too much?” Robbie asked, walking backward.
“No. Because if you can barely handle a turtleneck, you’d never make it in a straitjacket,” I said.
Robbie laughed. “I’m touched you care so much.”
He had, in fact, changed back into a T-shirt before picking me up for our shopping spree. I have to admit, I missed the turtleneck. It did have a certain something. He picked up a mini digital camcorder and flipped open the viewfinder, training it on me. I blushed and put my hand up to shield my face.
“Stop it!” he said, slapping my arm down. “It’s time for your close-up.”
“I don’t do close-ups,” I replied, blushing.
He gazed through the screen like a pro. “Sure you do. KJ Miller, you’ve just stage-managed an award-winning production of Grease. What are you going to do next?”
“Murder the star?” I said, grabbing for the camera.
He dodged me easily, moving as far away as the chain connecting the camera to the counter would allow. “Which one? Ashley? Jonathan Marsters? Not Tama. Don’t murder the love of my life.”
I paused, my face flushed. “I was talking about you, actually.”
“Moi? Please! I am a pleasure,” he said, hand to chest. He held the camera up again. “Seriously, though. Ashley would have to be the first to go.”
“Omigod, seriously,” I said. I struck a haughty pose and put on Ashley’s slightly nasal voice. “When I was in the Wee Ones Summer Camp production of Jesus Christ Superstar, I never had to deal with this level of unprofessionalism!”
Robbie cracked up laughing. “That is dead-on. Do Katz!”
I rubbed my hand up and down my face a few times, then made my eyes all heavy. “KJ, do the blocking for this scene, would you? I’ve got—” I paused to add a burp. “—heartburn.”
Robbie laughed and closed the camera. “You’re really funny, you know that?” he said.
“No I’m not.” I blushed. “I can’t even believe I just did that.”
“You’re kidding. I think you should do it more often,” Robbie said as we made our way to the register. “How come you never try out for the musicals?”
I laughed out loud. So loudly the woman in front of me in line jumped.
“Yeah right.”
“Why not? You’ve never thought about it?”
“No,” I lied. “I’m a behind-the-scenes kind of girl.”
“Whatever you say,” he replied dubiously.
I had thought about it. Wondered what it might be like to surprise everyone and get out there and act. Whether I’d be any good. I’d imagined the whole auditorium applauding for me, giving me a standing ovation. But that was just for fun.
The truth was, it could never happen. Because the very idea of being out there under the spotlight in front of all those people made me break out in the sweats. I had nightmares about it every musical season and always woke up relieved to recall that I was only working on the sets. This was one girl who was never going to be ready for her close-up. Not by a long shot.
ACT TWO, SCENE TWELVE
In which:
AN INVITATION IS EXTENDED
“ALL RIGHT, PEOPLE, GOOD REHEARSAL, BUT I SEE WAY TOO MANY scripts out there. I want to be off book by the end of the week,” Mr. Katz said, standing in the center of the stage. It was Monday and he was looking good. Refreshed. And like maybe he’d gone tanning over the weekend. “I know you know your lines, so stop using your scripts as a crutch.”
Ashley raised her hand.
“Yes, Ashley.”
“I’ve been off book since early last week,” she announced with pride.
“Yip-de-freakin-do for you,” Tama said, earning a round of laughs.
“That’s fantastic, Ashley. I wish I had twenty more like you,” Mr. Katz said pointedly, which brought the temporarily lost grin back to Ashley’s face. “Now, before I dismiss you for the day, I believe Fred has an announcement to make.”
Fred jumped up, yanking on the waist of his jeans, and grabbed a plastic grocery bag from the floor. A murmur of mirth ran through the crowd.
“Here we go,” Tama said under her breath, leaning back on her elbows.
“Party, party, party!” the Drama Twins trilled.
“Uh, well, in case you don’t know this, every year there’s a midway-through-the-musical party, and I’ve been hosting it for the past couple of years,” Fred said. He pulled a stack of big white envelopes out of the bag and started to hand them out, sidestepping around the inside of the circle. “These are your official invitations, but everyone’s allowed to bring one guest. But just one. My mom’s pretty strict about that.”
“Aw! Mommy doesn’t like crowds?” one of the drama dudes teased.
“Maybe I’ll distract her for ya, Freddy. Is she hot?�
�� the other one cackled.
“I bet she’s a MILF!”
Fred turned royal purple.
“Dude. Not cool,” Robbie admonished, whacking the kid on the back of the head with his invite.
Stephanie opened her invite and Tama grabbed it right out of her hand. I leaned over to check it out. There were the two drama masks in the center, made out of silver and gold foil. At the top of the card were the words “All the World’s a . . . Party!”